


Tarotic

by Slipperyl3oy (Gandalfgirl579)



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Adultery, Angst, Apprentice x apprentice, Asrian, Bath Time, Bathtubs, Begging, Body Horror, Cooking, Dirty Talk, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Femdom, Finger Sucking, Fluff, Gore, Guro, Hand & Finger Kink, Hurt/Comfort, Innuendo, Jealousy, Kissing without consent, M/M, Magic, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Pre-Canon, Pyrokenesis, Romance, Sexual Content, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, bathtime, palmistry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2019-06-27 12:17:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 11,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15685266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gandalfgirl579/pseuds/Slipperyl3oy
Summary: Letting out that long-held sigh, Asra murmured, "Anything is possible." He prayed to whoever was listening that it was the truth.A collection of Arcana drabbles spanning many ratings and ships.





	1. Chapter 1

"How do you feel?" Errol's voice echoes strangely against the tiled walls of the bathroom, carrying in the steam. Through the haze, she can see Julian's silhouette in the tub, arms pillowing his head on the porcelain lip of the basin. "Julian?" 

"Hmm?" 

"Are you even awake?" A little smile blooming over her face, Errol finally shuts the door behind her, taking a seat on the damp floor, ignoring the water seeping through the seat of her his trousers and leaning back against the lip of the tub. "You look exhausted." 

"Don't I always?" There's something almost wistful in Julian's voice, something dreamy and soft. Then he smiles: "It's your fault for keeping me up all night." 

Giving a smile of her own, Errol mimics his posture, resting her arms along the rim of the tub, using them as a pillow. "Sore?" she asks. 

"In a good way, yes." Languidly, Julian lifts one hand from beneath him to stroke damp, spidery fingers through Errol's hair. "You were magnificent." 

The smile Errol gives at that is radiant, and Julian returns it in equal measure, beacon-bright in the steam, a lighthouse in the fog. 

"Is the bath helping?" 

"A bit." Julian slid his hand back along Errol's neck, huffing out a little laugh when she caught his wrist, turning her head to press soft lips to his palm. "It would help more if you were to join me." 

"Is that so?" Her breath was warm against his skin, her smile warmer still. "Do you think you deserve that?" 

For a long moment, Julian was silent, eyes drifting from Errol's mouth up, though matching her gaze was clearly a bit of a struggle. "Yes," he said after a moment. "I do." 

"You do, Julian." He smiled at the affirmation, though Errol was quick to lean in and kiss it away. "You deserve the world." 

"I'd settle for just having you." 

"Oh, Julian." As it always did, the sound of her breathing his name like that sent a hot little thrill licking down his spine, blazing up brighter when she leaned forward to tangle a hand in his hair, pulling just enough to hurt. It was all he could do to hold back a moan. "You _have_ me."


	2. Chapter 2

_This wasn't his place_ , Asra knew. After years of travel, it was rare for him to feel out of place, yet here he was. He did his best to embrace the feeling of alienation, willing himself to disappear into the now-lukewarm mug of Salty Bitters that was set before him on the scarred wooden table. 

He did not disappear. 

Instead, tragically, he seemed to catch attention.

Of all the voices that could possibly have made themselves known to him, it had to be _his_. Asra fought back a sigh.

"What are you doing here?" Julian's salt-roughened voice asked.

In lieu of a reply, Asra reached for his drink.

Julian, though he must have picked up on the mood, clearly chose to ignore it, settling into the chair across the table with a mug of his own, dark brows furrowed, his silvery roving. "This isn't your sort of place, is it?" Asra ignored him, his own eyes stormy and downcast. "It's been a long time," Julian was saying, "but you can't possibly have changed that much."

Letting out that long-held sigh, Asra murmured, "Anything is possible." He prayed it was the truth.

Julian, being Julian, wasn't put off. Again, he asked, "What are you doing in a place like this, Asra?"

He wasn't going to back down, Asra knew. He was far too stubborn for that. Very softly, Asra admitted, "Everywhere else reminds me of her."

Julian looked away. His voice nearly lost in the bubbling chatter of the tavern, he replied, "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"You should be." It came out more harshly than Asra had intended, but he didn't take it back, despite the look of utter agony that had come other Julian's face. He truly was sorry for what had happened, Asra knew. He'd said so a thousand times over. The cold reality of it was probably eating at him from the inside out, as it had done to Asra. As it was still doing to Asra. He didn't deserve to blame himself. "It's hard."

Julian nodded, meeting Asra's eyes with a sorrowful, soulful look. "I know it is," he said. "I miss her, too."

"That isn't what I mean." Now it was Asra looking away, violet eyes set on anything that wasn't Julian. "You have no idea how hard it is," he said, his voice little more than a whisper, "to hate you when you look at me like that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from Chicago's Hard to Say I'm Sorry! The apprentice mentioned is Errol, naturally, but I suppose it could be any female apprentice


	3. Chapter 3

"Have you missed me, Asra?" 

Asra knew, of course, that he was dreaming. _Errol was gone_. He'd seen her bones at the Lazaret, years ago, felt her ashes slip through his bloodied fingers. The figure sitting beside him on the bed, though it looked so, so much like her, couldn't possibly be her. 

Mostly as self-reassurance, Asra murmured, "You aren't real." 

"Aren't I?" She sidled closer, pressing a hand to his thigh, and he could feel the cold of her long-since-dead skin through the bedsheets. 

It took all Asra had to say, soft though it was, " _No_." 

"You can make me real, you know." Not-Errol leaned in to nuzzle at his neck, and Asra found that he couldn't bring himself to pull away, couldn't stop his arms from instinctively wrapping around her and pulling her close. He shuddered hard when her blued lips brushed his skin. "You can bring me back." 

"Errol, _I can't_." 

"You _can_ , Asra." She pulled back to meet his eyes. Hers were dulled, the scleras bloody red with plague. Her breath was cool when she breathed against his lips, a kiss that was less a kiss and more a promise, " _You will_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for angst! :D


	4. Chapter 4

"Lemme see."

Though Julian was holding out his hand to accept, Asra wasn't sure what it was he was waiting for. "See what?"

" _Your hand_."

And so Asra offered up his hand.

Sidling closer on the little velveteen love seat, Julian cupped Asra's hand, tracing a gloved fingertip along the softness of his palm. "Did I ever tell you I used to be friends with a palm reader?"

On the floor between Asra's spread legs, Errol teased, "Did you now?"

Asra silenced her with a gentle hand in her hair and a soft, " _Errol_."

"I'll do you next, I promise," Julian said, lips quirking up into a mischievous smile. When he turned his attention from Errol back to Asra's palm, he said, "This is your love line."

It was actually the life line, though Asra didn't say so. He gave Errol a withering look when she snickered, pretty eyes rolling.

"See how it forks off in two directions?" Julian was asking.

Errol craned her head to watch, both hands resting on Asra's thigh. 

Everyone had the fork Julian was talking about, and Asra bit his tongue, though it was a little difficult to contain himself when Errol was smothering a laugh against his thigh.

"It goes one direction for Errol, and the other for me." 

Asra couldn't help but laugh then, warm and incredulous, and Errol's impish grin went soft.

Julian glanced up to meet Asra's eyes. "It's fate, the three of us." He looked down to Errol. "Me and my magicians."

"Pretty sure you're the one who's ours," Errol said, her little smirk returning. 

Though Julian huffed out a laugh, he didn't deny it, agreeing, "You two have me completely enchanted."

While Errol wrinkled her nose to hide a smile, Asra smirked, scoffing, "I don't know why we put up with you."

"Honestly," Julian said, "neither do I." He lifted Asra's hand to his mouth, pressing chapped lips to Asra's palm. "But I am grateful."

"Thank Errol, then." Asra smiled when Errol, at long last, climbed up onto the sofa, wedging herself between him and Julian. "I only gave you a second chance because it was what she wanted."

"And it was the right thing to do, wasn't it?" Errol twisted to press herself to Julian's chest, accepting a soft kiss before she returned her attention to Asra. "You're happy, aren't you?"

"I am." When Julian pulled Errol closer with one arm, he offered Asra his other hand. Asra, naturally, accepted, sliding closer to press Errol between his chest and Julian's, leaning over her head to press his lips to Julian's. "I'm happy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is titled: Let me romance Julian and Asra at once, please! ♡


	5. Chapter 5

" _Hold still_."

The teasing lilt in Errol's voice sent a hot shiver racing down Julian's spine, and naturally, he did as he was told, stilling his hips as best he could despite every fiber of his being urging him to keep moving. It was Errol's fiery eyes that kept him in place.

"Good boy." Errol's hands, splayed out on Julian's chest, pressed him harder to the mattress. Her smile was mischievous and absolutely _stunning_. "You really love being tied up, don't you?"

His voice a needy little whine, Julian nodded, "I do."

"Maybe I should just leave you here, if you like it so much?"

"Errol--"

"Asra should be home in a few hours." As she spoke, Errol slid her fingertips along his chest, just above his heart, brazen, as if she owned it. _She did. She and Asra both_. She met Julian's gaze. "Maybe I should leave you here for him to find?"

Errol leaned in to swallow Julian's protest in a kiss. When she pulled back, she asked, "Would you like that?" Her lips brushed Julian's with every word.

"No." Julian flushed when Errol raised an eyebrow. "Don't go, Errol. _Please_."

Crossing her arms and using them as a pillow against Julian's bony chest, Errol tilted her head, oddly catlike in her smugness. "You want me that much?"

Back arching in desperation, Julian nodded. "Yeah."

Errol's pretty lips pulled into a wicked litle grin. "Yeah?"

"I want you here." Unable to help himself, Julian's hips twitched, and Errol shuddered hard above him, fiery eyes going dark and smoky for a moment. "I want you with me." He flexed his hands against the bonds that held his wrists to the bedframe, reaching out to hold on, to keep Errol as close as he could manage. " _I need you_."

"Do you now?" Errol worked her hips as she spoke, her nails digging into Julian's chest as she did, just enough to hurt, though she knew full-well that he needed more. She looked absolutely ravishing, canting her hips forward to grind her clit against Julian's pubic bone with every downward stroke. "For how long?"

Julian's reply was lost in a breathy moan, his head falling back against the pillows, his mismatched eyes squeezing shut.

"Ilya." She rarely called him by his real name, and it took all he had not to come right then and there. But it was a command, and so he obeyed, casting a glance up at her, his eyes blown dark, cheeks flushed high, lips bitten pink and swollen. "For how long?" she asked again.

A little whimper catching in his throat, Julian licked at his lips, chest heaving under Errol's hands. He softly answered, absolutely honestly, "Forever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop, smut! :D Hoping to add more of that soon!


	6. Chapter 6

"Take off the mask."

Though it was a command, Errol made no move to obey. 

From the massive bed, Lucio glared up at her with his Plague-reddened eyes. His voice raspy and rough, he demanded, "What kind of bedwarmer wears a mask?"

"I'm not a bedwarmer." Even as she said so, Errol flared a torch near the bed, bathing the room in golden, flickering firelight and sudden heat.

"You _are_ warming my bed, aren't you?"

Though she knew Lucio couldn't see it through the red lenses of her mask, Errol rolled her eyes.

He seemed to pick up on her mood just the same, smirking and asking, "I wonder how Dr. Jules would feel about this?"

The flames flashed irritably, and Errol said, "That's none of your--"

"You're his lover, aren't you?"

Errol didn't answer that, busying herself with another lantern. Plague doctors didn't have time for _love_ , all knew; There were too many lives at stake to waste time on frivolous things like _romance_ , despite the fact that they both wanted it.

"His lover, the little firebug." Lucio seemed amused by the notion, baring his teeth in a grim smile. "My courtiers are fond of gossip, and it's apparently well-known that you burned down your family's home."

Errol bit her tongue, saying simply, "Your courtiers are liars."

 

"Not to me." Lucio pushed himself up onto his elbows, his eyes following Errol as she moved about the room. "And I don't hear you denying it."

"It was an accident." Errol pointedly refused to glance in Lucio's direction, watching the newly-stoked flames of a lamp through its glass globe, searching for herself in it. "I was a child."

"Valerius has told me your family ran away to Prakra." Lucio's smile was wide and toothy and vicious. " _To get away from you_."

"They didn't--"

"And Valdemar tells me the fire killed your infant sister. Isn't that--"

" _Enough_!" It may as well have been a spell, for all the torches in the room flared, flames leaping angrily. The bird mask was quick to catch fire, and Errol ripped it off, though the flames soon began licking at the plush carpet instead.

Lucio laughed at her, low and cruel, cackling, "Some magician you are! Can't even control your temper--"

Tossing a glare at him, Errol willed herself calm, willing the flames away, Asra's voice steady and soft in her mind, coaching her through it. 

As the flames died, the room smoking faintly, Lucio coughed out a laugh. "And they call me wicked?" He used his still-human arm to wave away the sooty air. "When you would kill your beloved count?"

Errol scoffed, reaching into her bag for a kerchief to cover her mouth in lieu of her ruined mask. " _Beloved_?"

" _Beloved of all Vesuvia_." Lucio attempted a grand sweeping gesture, but in his current state, failed, looking more like a fish flopping about. 

Through the fabric of her kerchief, Errol said, "You really a monster, aren't you?"

The laughter, malicious though it was, faded from Lucio's face. "No more than a monster than you." He let himself fall back against the mass of pillows at the head of the bed. "You killed your sister, I killed my father. We're two peas in a pod, aren't we, firebug?" 

Errol sneered at him. " _Don't call me that_."

"Then don't call me _monster_."

Stepping closer to the bed, Errol pressed one hand to the glass globe surrounding the lantern on the nightstand, the flame growing and glowing bright white. "There are rumors about you, too." She crossed to the other side of the bed, taking a seat on its edge and stoking the flame of the twin latern, too. "The people are saying the Plague is your fault, somehow." 

"And what do you think of that theory, _Doctor_?" The title sounded more like an insult when Lucio spat it out like that.

"I'm not a doctor." Errol pressed the kerchief tighter over her mouth. "I'm an artist. I've been documenting the effects of the Plague."

"An artist must want a better subject." 

There was a smirk in Lucio's voice, though Errol refused to look at him. "Not you. I've had enough of drawing the dead." Sighing into her kerchief, she dared a glance at him. "Wouldn't you rather they remember you the way you were?"

Lifting his chin, Lucio made a bold proclamation: "I'll be that way again soon."

"Will you?"

Errol fought back a gasp when Lucio snatched at her wrist, tugging her down to pin her across his lap, looming menacingly over her. The fever-heat of him sent an icy chill through her, and she glared hard to hide the trembling in her limbs as he snatched away the kerchief, sending it fluttering off the edge of the bed. 

His voice rough from just that bit of exertion, he snarled, "You doubt me?"

Errol offered no reply but the conjuring of a small flame in her pinned hand.

Though Lucio narrowed his eyes at the burn of it, he didn't pull away, hissing, "Tell me, firebug, _do you doubt me_?"

"I do."

Errol gave a hiss of her own when Lucio leaned farther in, twisting his Plague-wasted torso and lifting his false hand to press a single pointed claw beneath her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. The fire in her hand guttered at the threat; That claw could slice her open far too easily.

"What do you want from me?" It took everything Errol had to keep the quiver out of her voice. "I'm not a doctor. _I can't save you_."

"You think I need the likes of you to save me?" Lucio didn't wait for answer. " I don't need _you_ , I need _your lover_."

When Errol opened her mouth to argue, Lucio sealed his mouth over hers. When her free hand grabbed at his shoulder, nails digging in through the thin fabric of his shirt, he pressed his golden claw deeper. When Errol gasped at the pain, Lucio deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue against hers, insistent and far too warm. 

Errol shuddered; He tasted like death.

When he finally pulled back, Errol's free hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide and dazed and terrified.

"You know," he said, smirking like the Devil himself, "you may be Jules's lover, but he's so intent on finding a cure for me that I doubt he'll even notice you're sick."

"He isn't looking for a cure for you." Even when Lucio put more weight on his false arm, Errol persisted. The tears in her eyes were undeniable, the tremble in her voice unmistakable. What had she to lose now? "He's looking for a cure _for Vesuvia_. You just happen to be incidental."

"So do you." At long last, Lucio pulled away entirely, flopping gracelessly back onto the pillows, grinning madly when Errol lept up from the bed. "But I'm a count, and you're a bedwarmer. Let's see who lives longer, shall we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so Errol was infected with the Plague. Because she couldn't keep her big mouth shut. Too many tragically beautiful Plague stories, have a ridiculous one!


	7. Chapter 7

"Don't leave."

"What?" She hadn't spoken since she'd come back, and so Asra could scarcely believe she was speaking now, after weeks of silence.

" _Asra_." His name was a plea. "Don't go."

Sighing and winding his scarf around his neck, he said, "I won't be gone long."

She met his eyes with her own. She looked as if she was about to cry. Asra wondered briefly if she even _could_ cry. Softly, she asked, "Take me with you?"

"Someday."

It clearly wasn't the answer she wanted to hear, and she glanced away. It wasn't like her to give up so easily, and Asra prayed to whoever was listening that his sacrifice hadn't been in vain, that she would, someday, be herself again. 

Kneeling before her, Asra took her hands in his. " _I will come back_."

"Don't go."

Asra pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "I promise I'll come back." He met her eyes again, and for just an instant, he saw the spark of _her_ behind them. " _I will **always** come back for you._ "


	8. Chapter 8

"Gold suits you." Nadia slid an elegant ring onto Errol's third finger as she said so, smiling serenely to herself. "I always imagined it would." 

There was a power in sitting like this, Errol found, with Nadia on her knees while she herself sat on their shared bed. Errol basked in it. "I always imagined you would've been quicker to find out." 

Nadia smiled, pressing a kiss to Errol's scarred knuckles. "I wanted to wait until everything had settled. Until everything had fallen into place for us." She glanced up, catching Errol's eyes with her own. "You cannot rush these things." 

"I thought about rushing it, actually." Errol lifted her hand to examine the ring, turning it this way and that to watch the pretty ruby at its center catch the light of the afternoon sun peeking in through the curtains. _It was beautiful_. "But I know you prefer to be in control, so." She smiled when Nadia joined her on the bed. "You're lucky, y'know. I don't usually let others take the lead." 

Leaning in to brush her lips against Errol's, Nadia said, "I know." She slid her hand into Errol's hair, nails scratching lightly along her scalp. "You've no idea how much I appreciate it." 

"Then show me." Errol leaned back into the touch, baring her throat to Nadia. " _Show me how much you appreciate it_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NADIA IS SO HARD TO WRITE
> 
> But I kinda like Errol getting all subby for her ♡


	9. Chapter 9

" _Errol_..."

Asra shivered, pressing his ear to the door leading into the little bedroom above the shop, his bag long forgotten at his side. He'd wondered all through the day where Errol had slipped off to, but this... He had expected this. Both Errol and Julian were insatiable.

"Errol, _come on_!" It was nearly a scream, and Asra shivered.

"If you want it that badly," Errol said, her voice a soft, sultry purr, " _beg me for it_."

A long pause came then, and Asra licked his lips, waiting, willing his hands to stillness against the door. 

Then, at long last, Julian breathed, " _Please_ ," and Asra's will shattered, his hips rocking against the door. As loud as they were being, they'd never hear the drag of his pants buttons against the wood, or the soft gasps of his breath. 

" _I can't hear you_."

_Tease_. Asra could hear the little plea loud and clear, even through the door.

A wet, wanting gasp, and Julian was begging: " _ **Please**_!"

Errol was a vicious tease, Asra knew. He also knew that she knew exactly how to rile Julian, and he sent a pulse of magic through the wall to her. She sent a little ripple back, warm and inviting. Biting his lip, Asra undid the button and fly of his jeans, palming at himself through the fabric of his boxers.

There was an obscene squelch, and then a soft, breathy, " _Good boy_."

Whatever Julian's reply might have been, it dissolved away into a whimpery gasp, and Asra mirrored the sound to himself, pushing his hips desperately into his own hand, pride be damned. 

All that mattered was the soft sounds Julian was making from the other side of the door, and the quiet praises Errol gave him in return.

It was high, sharp gasp from Errol that had Asra cumming hard in his his fist, biting his lip bloody in an attempt to keep quiet, though it was hardly necessary, given the throaty growl ripping itself from Julian's throat. 

Spent, still shuddering when he heard Errol give a huff of pleased laughter, Asra rested his forehead against the cool wood of the door, the yellowed varnish fogging at the heat of him. He shivered hard when Errol's voice drifting through the wood, murmuring low and hot, "You're such a good boy." 

Doing up his trousers, Asra pushed open the door, saying, his voice still honeyed and dark, "I'm home."

"Asra..."

Hearing his name in Julian's gravel-roll voice, in that fucked-out tone, was going to haunt him for a long, long time, Asra was sure of it. It always did. The sight of Julian sprawled naked on their bed, though, a smirking, wild-eyed Errol straddling his hips was far more potent. 

With Julian still buried to the hilt inside her, her eyes blown black, Errol purred, "You're late."

Julian's eyes were fixed on Asra, too, the deep gray of storm clouds, roiling with want.

Errol accepted a kiss from Asra as he approached, and against his lips, she murmured, "We've been waiting for you."


	10. Chapter 10

Asra sighed, the sound ripped from his throat, choked out against the pillow. 

The scent of her was fading. 

A hitch in rushed breath, breathe deep: Cinnamon, smoke, the aroma of amber and cloves lingering on the fabric despite its owner's lengthy absence. 

It had been two months now. 

A gasp, strangled, caught itself in Asra's throat, that distinctive smell tethered in his head, bobbing lazily through the dense fog that had formed over his mind. 

The thought that he would never see Errol again was painful, there was no denying it. That smell, though, was at least of some comfort, and Asra shivered, that now-lost name dying on his lips, dissipating into the fabric. 

The scent was fading, slowly but surely being overpowered by his own. 

Another sigh, this time shaky, sorrowful. 

Having that aroma around made it a bit easier to go on, that much was true, but there was nothing Asra wouldn't give to have its owner back. 

He had a plan, of course. 

Half of himself for her. 

It would be entirely worth it, he was certain. Better to give himself half to her than to be whole without her. 

Without her, he knew, he wasn't quite whole anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANGST


	11. Chapter 11

_He was gone_. 

He was gone often, Errol knew, but this time, Asra wouldn't be coming back. 

She had never felt so betrayed. Her parents had had just cause to leave after the fire, and they had cared enough to make sure that she would be taken care of in their absense. Asra hadn't cared enough to bother, and he hadn't had cause to leave at all. He was a coward, running away from his problems as he always did. That was all the cause he had. 

Errol swiped a gloved hand across her damp eyes, telling herself that he wasn't worth her tears. She knew it wasn't true. 

Asra had actually-- _No_. He didn't deserve to be called by name after how much he'd hurt her. 

_He_ had actually had the gall to leave a few of his belongings behind: A blue crystal, a battered book, a pretty scrap of fabric, one of Faust's shedded skins, a little bundle of dried white sage. It took all Errol's willpower not to simply burn it all. Instead, she carelessly stuffed it all into a box from the shop, its inside lined in mirrors to keep the longing energy trapped inside and well away from her. 

She grabbed at the golden bell around her neck, snapping the chain and shutting it into the box, too, using her magic to heat her hands and melt its metal lip closed. 

Shoving the box into a high cabinet, too far for her to reach without a stepping stool, she tromped back into the living room to toss her sketchbook into the fireplace, the paper blackening and curling in on itself within seconds. She didn't want even her sketches of him. It really was a shame she could draw him perfectly from memory alone, but there was nothing to be done about that. 

Again, she rubbed at her eyes, half-blind from sorrow, fighting to breathe past the lump in her throat. 

She would have to keep herself busy, and hopefully, he would eventually fade from her memory. 

_He wasn't coming back this time_ , she told herself, ignoring just how badly that thought hurt. 

_He was gone._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case I haven't mentioned it, in addition to my main blog, I also do RPing as Errol at [3rrol](http://3rrol.tumblr.com/)!


	12. Chapter 12

"I brought you a gift."

"Oh?" Errol didn't look up from her work as she said it, carefully stringing together a long strand of carved amber beads.

From the other side of the sales counter, Asra placed a little box on the glass.

That seemed to catch Errol's attention, and she raised a brow, asking, "What is it?" 

"Open it and see!"

The tease in his voice made it impossible not to smile, and setting aside her project, Errol took the box in hand, gently easing off the lid. Inside was a golden bell on an equally golden chain. Pulling it free of the tissue paper, she gave it a ring. "A bell?" she asked.

"It's lucky," Asra said, his smile wide and warm as he crossed around to stand at her side. "The sound of bells keeps bad spirits away."

"Is that right?" Errol put the necklace in Asra's hand, turning around and lifting her hair away from her neck. "Put it on me."

Asra didn't hesitate to follow the order, clasping the chain before he planted a soft kiss at Errol's nape. "It'll keep you safe," he said. "It'll protect you when I'm not here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this fluff or angst?


	13. Chapter 13

Errol wasn't sure what drew her to the bookcase at the back of Julian's little clinic. She wasn't sure what had drawn her to a book on the workings of the human heart. Inside, though, pressed between the pages, she found a strangely familiar flower. It was a red spider lily, one of the few plants she could manage to keep alive in the shop. It took a moment for the realization to dawn on her. "I gave you this." 

"You did." Julian was pointedly looking anywhere but at her, idly shuffling books around to keep himself busy. "By the time I realized what had happened to you," he said, "it had wilted. And I couldn't just throw it out. It was all I had to remember you by."

Very carefully, Errol pulled the flower from the book's pages, stepping closer to Julian and slipping it behind his ear.

He touched the dried petals, so, so gently, before he asked, "What are you--" 

"You don't need it anymore," Errol told him, winding her arms around his neck. "You have me, and I don't intend to leave you again."

Julian pressed his lips to her forehead. "And I," he said, his voice soft, eyes slipping closed, "don't intend to lose you again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Tumblr request!


	14. Chapter 14

_It's alive_! was a bit too dramatic, Asra thought, and so he simply smiled quietly to himself as his dead lover shivered back to life on the cold copper table.

All around her lovely corpse, his equipment sprawled: Bowls of liquids and bowls of solids and bowls of fresh meat that had somehow spoiled in the ten minutes the ritual had taken. 

It had been ten minutes, hadn't it? 

Asra spared a glance up at the tower room's single window. On the other side of the leaded, wavy glass, the sky was a rather remarkable shade of crimson. _Sailors take warning_ , he thought wryly. _Necromancers take pride_.

He'd begun the ritual at sundown, just as the moon was peeking her pale, round face over the myriad chimneys that made up the smoke-stained London skyline. The stars had not yet shown themselves. 

Had it truly taken all night?

The scent seemed to say so, and Asra wrinkled his nose. 

That smell was made nearly tolerable by the arrangement of herbs laid in a circle around the table. Strangely, some of them seemed to have been burned. The rosemary was singed, the verbena flowers withered into little balls, the laurel branches charred beyond recognition. Had there been a fire? There was no smell of ash on the air, nor any trace of soot on the splintery wood of the floor.

Within the circle of herbs, however, the odor of formaldehyde and the beginnings of rot were overpowering.

Just the same, Asra stepped in, watching as she shuddered on the cold table, shoulders trembling, hands fisted, eyes squeezed shut, crinkling the grayed skin of her brow.

Was she in pain?

The thought itself was painful, and very softly, Asra asked, "Errol?"

It was the sound of his voice that set her eyes to fluttering open.

They were the same honey-gold that they'd always been, though they were glassy and sunken deep into her skull. They seemed withered, almost, too small for her pallid face. They'd been doe-like once, wide and full of yearning and curiosity and fire, but there was an emptiness to them now, and Asra stepped back when they met his.

Her hair, once so soft and lustrous, was brittle now, the strands snapping as she turned her head to regard him with those hollow eyes. Even the color had changed, shifting from warm auburn to a flat, dirty brown, the strands mingling with shimmering silver spider webs. Were there spiders still hiding inside her?

Her hands were more delicate than ever, spindly and deathly pale, the skin tightening around her knobby knuckles as they slowly clenched and unclenched at her sides. There was grave dirt beneath her manicured fingernails, and the lace gloves she had worn upon her burial had all but disintegrated.

Her lips, chapped and still troublingly bluish, parted on a shuddering gasp. A soft rumble escaped her throat, and she reached one pale, shaky hand out in his direction, fingers splayed. She still seemed stiff, rigor mortis still solidifying her joints. 

It would be a few days before she was fully alive, the book had said, if his translations were accurate. _The crawl out of the grave is far more difficult than the leap into it._

"Aaahhh…" What remained of her voice was a low mixture of a Rottweiler's growl and a kitten's purr, soft and shaky and thoroughly inhuman. Her eyes were wide, her bluish lower lip trembling. "Aaahhhssssss…"

 _Asra_. 

She was trying to say his name, to call him to her side, even after so long. Of course. 

Taking her clammy, slender hand in his, Asra smiled.

 _She was alive_. 

After nearly a month of failed experiments, after two long, cold years in the grave, _Errol Pyralis was **alive**_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is actually the prologue for a new fic! You can read it [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16476227/chapters/38585396)!


	15. Chapter 15

"I got something for you." 

That could be a wondrous thing, or a terrible, _terrible_ thing. 

Julian wasn't sure which possibility he liked more, and he snuggled deeper into Errol's chest, both of them sprawled out on the sofa, chest to chest beneath a mass of blankets, the fireplace crackling with a golden blaze that neither of them were paying much attention to. 

When it was clear that Julian was interested, Errol reached beneath the couch to pull out a parcel wrapped in glittering purple tissue paper, and she promptly pressed it into Julian's hands. 

"You got this for me?" _Wondrous or terrible_. It was a risk Julian was willing to take, turning onto his side and proping up on one elbow as he tore the paper away from the gift. 

It was black, made of soft, buttery leather and lined in red silk. The buckle was a D-ring large enough to fit a leash through. It was _a collar_ , it was thoroughly demeaning, and Julian pressed it back into Errol's hands, pleading, "Put it on me." 

"It's actually a two-part gift," Errol said as she did up the buckle at the back of Julian's neck, pressing a kiss to pale skin and letting his hair fall back into place. "That part is for you." She reached beneath the couch to pull out a matching parcel. Julian sat up fully, hovering over her as she unwrapped it. It was a leash, and she clipped it firmly onto the ring of the collar. "This part," she said, using the leash to pull him closer, "is for me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these two ♡


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be careful! If you're not into gore, this chapter is not for you!

"Hold still."

"Yes, Doctor." Errol found she could say nothing else. She could do nothing else. She barely knew what was happening. Her head was swimming.

"Very good." 

Errol could only distantly feel the slide of the scalpel blade along the back of her hand, cutting clean through the layers of scarred skin.

She felt only an echo of pain as it was peeled back, bloody and perfect, to reveal the pretty crimson muscle beneath, shining wet in the flickery lamplight of the lab.

"The scarring goes deeper than expected."

Were they talking to her? Errol wasn't sure.

"It looks as though the skin has melted right off." They sounded intrigued, lifting her hand closer to their face. "There's even scarring on the muscle. _Fascinating_."

Errol wanted, quite desperately, to pull away, but found that she couldn't.

When Valdemar leaned in further, their lips brushing not skin but blood-slick sinew, she shuddered.

Her heart leapt into her throat, panic-stricken when they glanced up at her, asking, "Do you suppose the scarring is this deep on the other hand?" When she gave no response, they gave her a bloody-toothed grin. "Let's find out, then, shall we?"


	17. Chapter 17

**Urgh, this took forever! I did my very best, so I really hope you like it, darling!**  
.  
“I understand you have to do this, but _please_ , Arya, _remember our promise._ ”

It felt like years ago, but Errol remembered every word. _When you beat her_ , she had said, _I want you to come back to me. Even if, between now and then, you find someone else, **come back**. Just let me know you’re safe and you’ve won_.

Arya’s sad smile would have shattered Errol’s heart, if it hadn’t already been in pieces over their leaving. “I’ll come back.” They wound their scarf around their neck as they spoke. “I promise.” 

“Be careful.” Errol pressed a kiss to the pretty piece of labradorite that hung around Arya’s neck– a protection charm she’d given them long ago– charging it with her own energy. Then she rose onto her tiptoes to kiss Arya’s lips. “Your heart is mine,” she said, with so much conviction that she very nearly believed it. “Kamini can’t have it. _It’s mine_.”

Arya smiled, though it was still tinged with sadness, and said, with as much determination  in their voice as Errol had ever heard, “Forever and always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arya belongs to Tumblr user Tranquil-Arya! ♡


	18. Chapter 18

“You think you can just run that pretty mouth of yours whenever you want?”

Though Lucio had a golden claw pressed to the sensitive skin beneath her chin, his body pinning her to the wall and looming so much taller than her, Errol wasn’t intimidated in the slightest. Tossing a smirk up at him, she answered, “I do.”

Though he didn’t press the claw any deeper, Lucio didn’t pull away, either, merely glaring down with colorless eyes and curling his lip in disgust.

“You know you like it.”

“That isn’t the point.”

Errol rolled her eyes. “Then what is?”

“You’re _my magician_.” It was a blessed fact. She had been an insignificant shopkeep before he had come to her. “You don’t get to upstage me.” He didn’t make it easy, but she loved few things more than riling him up. “ _I am the Count_.”

“Of course you are.” Errol carefully slid herself away, sauntering off toward his wing. She knew him well enough by now to know that he would follow. 

She didn’t quite expect him to grab her, sliding his hand around to grasp at the back of her neck, his golden thumb sliding along her cheek.

“What’re you gonna do?” Her tone was light and teasing, her eyes dark. “Kill me?” 

He wouldn’t, she knew. He was as entranced by her as she was but him.

“I could.”

“But you won’t.” Errol rose onto her tiptoes, brushing her lips against his, laughing softly when he nipped at her. “Where would Vesuvia’s beloved Count be without his magician?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ship them hard, especially in this au where Lucio finds Errol instead of Asra


	19. Chapter 19

"My keys are in my pocket." Julian's voice was muffled behind the sacks of groceries he carried. "Can you get them for me?"

"If you cook," Errol teased, but reached into his pocket to grab the keys to their apartment. Her bags were, naturally, much lighter than his, and she easily balanced them in one arm while she opened the door. Julian would never allow her to carry the heavier bags. Poor, sweet martyr of a man.

Julian huffed out a laugh, following Errol inside and setting his bags on the kitchen island after she had set down hers. "You think I'd let you cook?" he asked, raising one brow and giving her a teasing look as she slid off her boots.

Feigning offense, Errol pressed a hand to her chest, clutching invisible pearls. "I can cook!"

Pressing a kiss to her temple, Julian laughed, "You can't boil water, E."

"Can so!" She was, of course, totally transparent. Though her mother was a gifted actress, Errol herself was an open book. "I happen to be a very proficient water-boiler." When Julian opened his mouth to argue, Errol kissed him silent. "You take care of dinner," she said, pulling off the hoodie she had stolen from, beneath which she wore the lacy red bra she knew he liked best. "And I'll make sure you get something real nice in exchange."

Julian flushed, looking utterly flustered for a moment before he cleared his throat, saying, "It'll be the best meal you've ever had."

"Don't go spoiling your appetite," Errol teased, rising up on her tiptoes to brush her lips against Julian's. "There's something else I expect you to eat afterwards."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So domestic!


	20. Chapter 20

"I told you to chop the eggplant, not your finger!"

"Not like I did it on purpose," Errol muttered, popping her fingertip into her mouth. It was only a little cut, at least, but the eggplant had come out unscathed.

Though she looked a bit guilty doing so, Portia laughed. "Not much of a cook, are you?" She took Errol's hand and wrapped a bit of napkin around her finger. It was barely bleeding anymore, but Errol didn't fight it. She liked the attention.

"I warned you!"

Rolling her eyes, Portia leaned in to kiss away Errol's pretty pout. "How about you go set the table and I'll handle the cooking?"

"I could probably handle that," Errol groused, using her uninjured hand to steal a bit of shredded cheese from one of the bowls Portia had set on the counter.

"Set the dishes out!" Portia called after her as she moved into the dining room. "Don't set the table on fire!"

Errol scoffed, "But setting it on fire sounds more fun!"

Setting about chopping the eggplant, Portia clicked her tongue. "That does sound like something you would do..." She laughed when Errol threw a dish towel at her.


	21. Chapter 21

"You're supposed to let me lead." Lucio didn't seem especially bothered, his metal arm tight around Errol's waist, pulling her so close that there wasn't even an inch of space between his chest and hers. "The man leads, firebug."

"Too bad I don't see a man," Errol shot back, leading him into another smooth movement across the ballroom floor. "Just a spoiled little boy."

"This spoiled little boy could easily rip your heart out." As if to demonstrate, Lucio let his claws dig into her side, and Errol hissed.

"You could." Errol had no doubt of it. "But I could burn you to cinders just as easily." 

He didn't deny it, instead dipping Errol back far enough that her brushed the floor. Even upside down, she noticed, "Your wife is watching us." When Lucio pulled her upright again, held securely to his chest, she added, "You'll have to decide between us eventually."

"I'm the Count." He said it as if it would silence all imaginable arguments. "I don't have to decide if I don't want to."

"Hmm." Errol pursed her lips, reluctantly letting Lucio take the lead. "I suppose I can arrange to have the choice made for you. I don't think Prakra would miss one princess when they have six more." When Lucio opened his mouth, Errol silenced him with a kiss. "I want you to fuck me in her bed."

That point, Lucio didn't argue, and Errol smiled and kissed him again before she led him out.

On the way, as they passed Nadia, Errol met the Countess's eyes. To her, her voice soft and dark,  Errol said, "Good night, Princess."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, E likes Nadia even less in this AU XD


	22. Chapter 22

"The Masquerade's starting soon." It was clear from Lucio's tone that he wasn't overly concerned with being on time. "It only comes once a year, you know."

"You've been waiting for this party for months." Perched in Lucio's lap in the head chair at the dining room's impressive table, Errol pressed closer, mouthing at pale skin with every word she spoke. "You can wait a few minutes more."

Lucio didn't bother to argue that point, lifting his golden hand from Errol's hip to tangle his fingers into her hair.

"Just gimme a moment more." She gave his pulse point a harsh nip, catching his skin between her teeth for a moment, only letting go when Lucio gave a low, sharp hiss. "This is important."

Giving her hair just enough of a tug to pull her attention away from her little mouthful of flesh, he asked, "Why's it so important for you to mark me up, firebug?" He already knew the answer.

"Because you're always marking me." It was true, but it wasn't the entire truth. "And I want them to know you're mine."

" _Them_?"

Errol's pretty eyes rolled. "The peasants," she said, as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world. Truly, it was. Lucio just wanted to hear her say it. "The servants. The courtiers. _Your other lovers. **Your wife**_." She lifted her hands to his hair, tangling into it and forcing him to meet her eyes. " _ **You're mine**_."

"And the fact that I'm attending this Masquerade with you on my arm and not my wife isn't enough?"

"No." Though she allowed him one kiss, Errol soon dipped down to suck a dark bruise just above Lucio's heart, perfectly framed by the ridiculously low cut of his jacket. "It's nowhere near enough."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A birthday gift for our beloved Count! ♡
> 
> Also, wow, Errol is surprisingly dark in this au! Lol


	23. Chapter 23

"What's this one?" Errol brushed a single fingertip over the center of Asra's palm as she spoke, glancing up at him through thick, dark lashes. It was clear her mind wasn't on her lesson.

"Head line." Asra did his best not to shiver at the teasing little touch.

"And this one?" Her voice was breathy and soft.

"Heart line." He couldn't fight the shiver back when she pressed a kiss to his palm. "Errol, you're supposed to be studying."

Asra gulped when she looked up at him with the full force of those glittering amber eyes. They were dark with want, her voice a purr when she said, "You have really nice fingers."

Though he didn't sound half as stern as he had hoped to, Asra said, " _Errol_."

She pressed a kiss to each of his fingertips, her lips lingering a few seconds too long, leaving behind the faintest trace of maroon lipstick. "I can think of something better we could be doing with your fingers."

Asra smiled, giving a breathless little laugh. It was a tempting offer, but he said, "You're ridiculous."

Errol gave the pad of his middle finger a teasing lick. "You love me."

"I do." Asra shuddered hard when Errol trailed her lips down along the delta of veins at the base of his wrist. "I'm gonna quiz you," he said, surprised by how needy he sounded already. "If you get every question right, you can have my hands whatever you want them. If you lose--

"I won't lose." Meeting Asra's eyes, Errol took his middle and index fingers into her mouth, sliding down, down until her lips touched his knuckles. He bit down on a moan, following her lead and imagining that pretty mouth somewhere else. Errol pulled off again with a slick, lewd noise, licking her lips and purring, " _I never lose_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Errol is ridiculous ;)


	24. Chapter 24

"Stop pouting. You'll wrinkle."

If Errol hadn't known better, she would have thought it a command. "Considering you've already wrinkled," she shot back, "I don't think you've any room to be giving me advice."

Valerius sneered at her. "What have you got to pout over, magician? You're his favorite."

Errol pursed her lips. "And yet he's dancing with her." Her name was, of course, unspeakable.

Valerius scoffed. "Dancing with his own wife? The nerve of him." The look Errol gave him for that could cut glass, and Valerius didn't fail to notice the way the nearest lanterns seemed to blaze brighter in the wake of her anger. He was used to it by now. "A word of advice," he said. "Don't expect him to choose you over her, even if you are his favorite."

Crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes on the Count and Countess, Errol asked, "What makes you think you're in any position to give me advice, Consul?"

Valerius took a long sip of his wine. "Because before you came along," he said, his voice chilly, "I was his favorite."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of the dark AU!


	25. Chapter 25

"You know what that is, don't you?" Julian seemed extremely hesitant to bring it up, watching Errol through dark lashes, his brow furrowed as her lips brushed over old ink.

"Your tattoo?" she asked. Her breath was warm on his skin.

"It means I'm a criminal, Errol."

"I know that." Sliding closer on the sofa, she pressed herself to his side, smiling when he absently wound an arm around her waist. "But they were wrong to mark you that way."

"E, you deserve better."

Errol rolled her eyes. "I murdered my sister," she shot back. "I'm not exactly innocent, either."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a teeny bit of angst!


	26. Chapter 26

"You stop now, and--" Lucio can do nothing to stop the moan bubbling up through his chest, his fingers tangled into long auburn hair, his thighs tight around Errol's hips, trembling in the effort of holding her close. "You stop now, _and I'll kill you_." 

It's only a slight exaggeration.

And so Errol _does not_ stop. She's reckless, yes, but she hasn't got a death wish. Not at this exact moment, anyway. Besides, it feels too good to stop. She's practically high on power, thrusting her false cock as deeply into him as she can manage. Lucio is as tight as he was the first time, and the second time, and the thousand times since then. He's as demanding as he was the first time, too. It's cute, in a bratty, annoying way. " _You'll_ kill _me_?" Errol has the audacity to sound amused, grinding deep as she speaks, her scarred hands bruise-tight at the backs of Lucio's thighs, keeping him spread wide open beneath her. "Think you actually could?"

" _Yes_." It's not really an answer, Errol knows. It's a plead for more. This is as close to begging as Count Lucio gets. His nails at Errol's back are a nice counterpoint to the desperation in his voice, a mockery of control. The golden hand, she's sure, is drawing blood. " _Fuck, yes_."

Errol can't help but laugh at him, the sound high and airy and impossibly playful. "I don't think so." 

Those pale, pale eyes are hazy when they meet Errol's, Lucio's voice gravelly when he argues, " _I could_." Even sex-drunk, he's got it in him to fight. It's one of his best qualities. 

"Mm, no."

Growling softly, Lucio bucks, anger giving way to fury in a desperate attempt to push Errol away, to roll them over and take control, to ride her faux cock until he's painting her stomach white with his cum. 

It doesn't work.

"I said, _no_." This time, it comes with a hand wrapped tight around Lucio's throat, and he lets out a soft sigh, pale lashes fluttering. The claws at Errol's back ease, and Lucio arches his neck into the touch, his pretty mouth slack, his breath coming in short, desperate pants. " _Oh_." Errol's smirk is beyond wicked. "You like that?"

The thumb pressing into the hollow of his throat prevents any words, so Lucio just licks his lips and glares, his colorless eyes hooded and lust-dark. _Don't you dare stop_ , that piercing stare seems to demand.

"Gotcha." It's a great deal less than reassuring, and that soft hand squeezes.

Lucio does nothing to fight it off, hips twitching, a rough moan catching at his throat.

Errol can feel the vibration of it through her hand. She's distracted, though, when Lucio's hand yanks hard on her hair, pulling her down for a kiss so rough their teeth clash together. She whimpers at the taste of blood.

When she pulls back, Errol asks, her voice soft, "I'm gonna make you cum just like this." She gives his throat a squeeze, feeling the rush of blood just beneath pale skin. "How does that sound, Your Excellency?"

Lucio nips at her lips in reply, too breathless to argue.

A smirk, a smug, "I thought you'd like that," and the hand tightens again. 

There's going to be a hand-shaped bruise around Lucio's throat for weeks, Errol's fingerprints emblazoned on his skin. _Nadia is going to be **furious**_. It's the thought of those ruby-red eyes going sharp, those soft hands curling into angry fists, the stern, irritated line of Nadia's pretty mouth that has Lucio cumming. It's Nadia's name that slips past his lips as he struggles for breath, Errol's hand still tight at his throat.

Errol is slow to pull out, her hand dragging black, ruined nails down along Lucio's breastbone, and he arches into it. " _You son of a bitch_." It comes on a rough scoff that sounds a bit too much like a prelude to tears. 

"If you tell Nadia about this," Lucio says, "I'll see you hanged."

It's only a slight exaggeration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a gift for idrinkluciostears on Tumblr!


	27. Chapter 27

"Camio!" It was a command, and Camio straightened on his perch, eyes forward, crest puffed. Lucio gave him a smug smile, then glanced at Errol, who sat at the vanity, watching him sprawl on the bed. "He's got it this time, firebug! Watch!"

Choking down a laugh, Errol said, "I'm watching."

Lucio gave her a wink before he sat up, the thick comforter pooling about his waist. To Camio, he said, "Count."

Camio tipped his head to the right, then the left. Then, with perfect diction, he said, " _Count._ "

Errol snorted.

Lucio shot her a dirty look before he said to Camio, "No." Holding up a finger with each number, he added, "One, two, three."

Camio clacked his beak. " _Counting,_ " he said.

Errol bit her lip.

Shooting her a look, Lucio sighed. "You're not as smart as you look, are you?" he asked Camio.

"He's brilliant!" Errol stood, crossing the room to stroke Camio's crest. She cooed to him, "You're a brilliant little bird, aren't you, love?"

" _Brilliant,_ " Camio agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff to soothe the broken hearts of we unfortunate Lucio stans :(


	28. Chapter 28

"You think Maz'll mind if I steal you away?"

"For one night?" Julian smiled when Errol grabbed at the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer in the dim little bedroom of the inn. "I don't think she'll mind."

"More than one night, ideally." Giving a smile of her own, Errol pulled him closer, rising up onto her tiptoes to kiss him. "You have no idea how much this means to me," she said, her voice soft. "I've never been anywhere." She kissed him again, softer. "I wanna see the whole world with you."

"Mm." Julian brushed the tip of his nose against the tip of Errol's, his arms winding tightly around her waist. "That sounds lovely."

"I wanna see the mountains." She kissed his cheek. "I wanna see snow." She kissed his other cheek. "I wanna see Prakra and show off my husband."

That gave Julian pause, and he pulled back, eyes wide and bright and so, so warm. "Your husband?" he asked.

"The way I see it, Errol said, settling onto the edge of the bed, "Mazelinka can marry us in the morning, and we can honeymoon here."

His voice soft and dreamy, as though he didn't think himself awake, Julian murmured, "Why here?"

Errol shrugged, grabbing for the waist of his trousers, using her grip to pull him closer. "I wanna see what home is for you."

"Home could be the ship." There was a soft smile on Julian's face, though there was a mischievous twinkle in his eye, too. "Home could be Vesuvia. Or even Prakra, if that's what you want."

"Oh, yeah?" Errol looped her legs around his hips, her arms around his shoulders, holding him tight and close. "How's that?"

"Anywhere I'm with you," Julian said, lifting a hand to her cheek and smiling when she turned to press her lips to his palm, "is home."

"That may have been the corniest thing you've ever said to me!" She clearly didn't mind, smiling warmly up at him, her cheek pressed against his palm.

"You're blushing," Julian pointed out.

"So're you!"

When he opened his mouth to argue, Errol laughed, and rolled her eyes, and kissed him silent.


	29. Chapter 29

"They're _your family_ , Julian." Errol spoke softly, as though she would scare him away if she spoke too loudly, her hands cradling his face and gently forcing him to look her in the eyes. "They love you, no matter what you look like."

"You don't--"

" _I do_." Her tone left no room for doubt. "They've been begging to see you since I found them. _They deserve to see you, Ilya_."

Julian sighed, leaning forward to rest his head on Errol's shoulder. With his new, monstrous size, it forced him to bend nearly in half. He nodded, tensing when she kissed his temple and knocked on the door.

"Name yourself!" It was Mazelinka's voice.

Julian bit his lip, his feathers fluffing even as Errol stroked a hand over his shoulder to try and smooth them. "It's Errol." She gave him a reassuring smile. "And Julian."

There was an audible gasp before the sound of numerous locks being undone came through the hut's door. Mazelinka, it seemed, had shored up well against the madness that was this wild new world.

Julian flinched into Errol's shoulder when the door opened, his breathing harsh in the momentary silence.

"He might be too tall," Mazelinka eventually said, and Julian huffed out a laugh, though he kept his face hidden. "You think he can fit through the door?"

Nuzzling at Errol's shoulder one last time, Julian pulled away a bit, giving Mazelinka a sheepish smile as he towered to his full height in the doorway. Very softly, he said, "Hi, Maz."

Mazelinka curled her lip at him. "You'll have to sit on the floor," she said. "You'll break my chairs for sure." There was a smile in her eyes, and Julian could see it as easily as Errol could, his feathers smoothing a bit, though Errol didn't fail to notice that his clawed hands were still trembling.

She kissed his cheek and took his hand, following Mazelinka inside, though he had to bend quite far to fit through the doorway. 

Despite the world's ending, Mazelinka's little hut was just as cozy as Julian had remembered, warm and welcoming and smelling of stew.

When Errol claimed the chair before the fireplace, he followed, kneeling at her side and resting his head on her lap, his coarse feathers tickling even through her trouser legs.

"Where have you been?" Mazelinka asked as she settled into an overstuffed armchair beside the window. It was amazing, both Julian and Errol thought, that she was so at ease, considering the enormous change in Julian's appearance. "Languishing?"

"What else?" he quipped.

She snorted. Then she glanced at Errol, asking, "Have you not been feeding him? He's as thin as a rake!"

Errol gently scratched at Julian's neck and said, "He only eats worms now." He gave an indignant gasp. "Being a bird and all."

"I do not!"

Mazelinka smiled. "I'll send some stew home with you, if you promise to visit again, and to bring him with you." Then she called, "Pasha!"

Though Julian stiffened, Errol's hand at his nape calmed him somewhat, and he let out a strangled sound when Portia stepped into the room, wiping her hands on her apron. "What-- Ilya!"

Julian flinched, hiding his face, though Errol made that impossible by gently pushing him away, moving to stand at Mazelinka's side and give the siblings space.

"Ilya, is that you?" Portia stepped closer. 

Though his voice was rough, he managed to grit out, "It's me."

Even with Julian on the floor, when Portia hugged him, her arms were at the perfect height to wrap around his shoulders. "Why would you--" She sniffled. "How did you--" She hiccupped. "I was so worried!" 

While she cried into his feathers, Julian gently placed at hand at the small of her back, hugely grateful for the fact that Errol had trimmed his claws down for the visit. "Pasha, I had no choice." He hid his face in her hair. "I did this for all of us."

"You can't honestly think we wanted this!" Her voice was choked and broken.

Julian muffled his reply into orange curls, his shoulders visibly quivering, his feathers fluffing up.

Portia seemed to pick up on it, and she sighed and pulled away, running her fingers through the feathers on the top of Julian's head, smoothing them down like she would have done to his hair when he had been human. "I haven't forgiven you," she said, gently enough that not even she believed it, "but I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad I'm here, too."

Tucking a long lock of hair behind her ear, Portia smiled and asked, "Do you want some stew?"

Julian mirrored her smile. With as much humor as he could muster, he said, "I only eat worms now."

"Oh, sure!" Portia was already on her way back to the kitchen. "Watch out for Pepi, though, bird boy. She might think you're lunch!"

"Oh, sure!" Julian let out an undignified squawk when Pepi promptly pounced on him.


	30. Chapter 30

"Firebug!"

The palace garden, Errol was fairly certain, was empty.

She glanced upwards, though, her eyes scanning the trees when the voice called again, "Firebug, help!"

"Camio!" Errol glanced at Lucio when he came up beside her, clearly winded. Resting his golden elbow on her shoulder, he called up to Camio, "Come down, huh?"

Camio called down, "Sharp!"

"Sharp?" Errol raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest and asking, "What's he talking about?"

"He doesn't wanna get his talons cut." Mirroring Errol's posture, Lucio huffed. "He's being a brat."

"You're one to talk!" Ignoring the dirty look that earned her, Errol approached the trunk of the tree Camio was currently hiding in, cooing softly at him while Lucio pouted. 

"Help, Firebug!" Sounding nothing short of forlorn, Camio frantically flapped his wings and cried, "Firebug!"

Raising a brow and glancing at Lucio, Errol asked, "Does he think that's my name?"

"Well," Lucio said with a shrug, "it's what I call you." 

"I suppose that makes sense." She smiled when Camio finally came down to perch on her shoulder, grasping at her with his too-sharp claws and gently preening her hair. 

Though Camio hissed at him, Lucio stepped closer to stroke along his back. Flashing a grin at Errol, he asked, "What does Apollo call me?"

"Usually?" Errol laughed when Camio nipped at Lucio's fingers. "He just calls you goat man."


	31. Chapter 31

"You aren't allowed to die." He himself had had the Plague for weeks now, how could it possibly be killing Errol this quickly? He knew that his multitude of deals made it slower in taking him, but three days? "I _order you_ to stay alive."

"It doesn't work like that." Even like this, her eyes red, her lips chapped, her breathing rough and shallow, she had the audacity to smile at him. 

Sighing, Lucio moved as carefully as he could to stretch out beside her on the bed, propped up on one elbow while his golden hand came to rest at Errol's hip, gingerly pulling her closer. Though it had only been three days since he'd seen the familiar red in her eyes, she weighed next to nothing now. She was wasting away before him, and there was nothing he could do. He would give his other arm to keep her alive, but she was right: _It didn't work like that_.

"Stop looking at me like that." Though it took what seemed like an incredible amount of energy, Errol lifted a hand to press the tip of her middle finger to the spot between Lucio's brows. "Don't want that pretty face to wrinkle."

Lucio scoffed at her, but said nothing, brushing her hand away and leaning down to steal a kiss, though she blocked him with that same fingertip to his lips.

" _Don't_." There was a quiet desperation in her voice that nearly shattered his heart. " _ **Please**_."

"Firebug." It was a command, but she didn't follow it. More softly, he said, " _Errol_ , look at me."

Though she bit her lip, this time, she did as she was told, looking at him with wet, Plague-red eyes.

"You got it from me." He had never admitted it, even to himself. His chest felt hollow. "We may as well die together, right?" He wouldn't die, he knew. Not yet. But maybe this could comfort her. 

"Lucio..." 

Her voice was fading, and this time, when he kissed her, she accepted it. She didn't have the strength to pull away.


	32. Chapter 32

"Hold still."

Though Lucio did as he was told, he curled his arms around Errol's waist anyway, pulling her closer.

"Can't believe you do this every day." From her place straddling his hips at the head of the bed, she reached out to take up a stick of kohl. "You're prettier than most of the women in this city, I'll have you know."

Though he smirked at the compliment, cocky as anything, his blush was undeniable. "Yeah?" 

" _Lucio_." Errol smiled as she gently applied a line of black beneath his left eye. "You know you are." She chased the line with the strange reversed cat eye he favored. "You're prettier than every single woman in Vesuvia, _and you know it._ "

Leaning up, he kissed her, turning his head to smear kohl over her cheek and giving her a cheeky grin. "Except you."

Wiping her face on the silken sheet, Errol returned that little smirk, agreeing, "Except me."


	33. Chapter 33

"You might just be the prettiest model I've ever drawn." Though there was a tease in Errol's voice, it was the truth. 

"Is that so?" Lucio stretched out on his massive bed, arching his back dramatically and making an absolute spectacle of himself. 

Errol laughed at him, glancing down to define the eyebrows of her drawing. "It is," she said, smiling to herself as she worked. "Except maybe for Camio." Lucio snorted, but didn't contest it. "He might just be prettier than you."

From his perch in a pool of sunlight off by the side of the bed, Camio agreed, " _Pretty bird_!"


	34. Chapter 34

It had never mattered before. Now it was his magician, his lover, his whole world.

"There has to be something you can do, Jules." It was a command, though the Plague was sapping away Lucio's voice and his strength and the very ability to issue commands. " _I'm ordering you to save her_."

"We've tried everything." Oddly, Jules sounded as distraught at the idea of losing her as Lucio did. "Herbs, leeches, even crystals. There's nothing left to do but let her go peacefully."

"And her magic?" It took all Lucio's energy to stay upright despite the mountain of pillows at his back.

Jules gave a somber shake of his head. "She has no strength left." His voice sounded close to breaking. "She's used what little magic she had left in her to..." He trailed off, but the accusation was still obvious.

"To keep me alive," Lucio said.

Softly, Jules replied, "Yes."

"Get out." When Jules followed the order, Lucio let himself fall limp against the pillows. 

This was madness.

 _Stupid_. Lucio didn't dare say it out loud, letting his eyes slip closed, lest the tears come. _Stupid girl_. Wasting her limited time saving him. _Brave, selfless, stupid girl._


	35. Chapter 35

"Your mother is Elspeth Annwn?"

Errol rolled her eyes, soothing a hand down Apollo's back as he relaxed on her lap. "Yes."

"Errol." Julian plopped down beside her on the sofa, taking her hand in his and asking again, " _Your mother is **Elspeth Annwn**_?"

"Why is that so hard to believe?" Errol couldn't help but scoff. In her lap, Apollo glared up at Julian, clearly irritated by the sudden lack of attention. "I look just like her."

"She's a celebrity!"

Gently easing her hand free to resume Apollo's stroking, Errol said, "She's _a hack_ , Julian. The woman can't act." When he opened his mouth to argue, she silenced him with a raised hand. "She's only famous because she always had her tits out on stage."

Julian flushed, floundering for a moment. "But she's the whole reason I wanted to become an actor!"

"Because you wanted to see my mother's tits?"

From his place on Errol's lap, Apollo made a disapproving sound.

"I'd rather see yours, of course." Leaning close, Julian rested her head on her shoulder, grinning cheekily up at her.

Though Errol rolled her eyes at him, she couldn't help but laugh. "Nice save."

Nuzzling at her neck, Julian purred, "Please?"

Huffing out a laugh, Errol asked, "Are you gonna be a good boy and stop thinking about my mother's tits?"

He gave her a saucy wink, his arms winding around her waist and curling closer to her. "Only if I get to see yours!" he laughed.

When Julian leaned up to steal a kiss, Apollo sneered, _Gross_.


	36. Chapter 36

“Firebug?” Lucio’s voice was oddly soft, nearly lost in the bubbling of the garden’s fountain and the singing of the early morning birds. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Just watching the sunrise.” Errol was sat on the edge of the fountain, a hand resting over her swollen belly. Their son would arrive any day now, and Lucio’s heart fluttered. Glancing up at him, she asked, “Do you suppose he’ll be the next count?”

“Well, Nadia isn’t giving me an heir, so I suppose he will be.” Though the baby would be born out of wedlock, Lucio was thrilled by the idea of having a son at last.

Better still that it would be with Errol: The babe would surely have her pretty complexion and her fiery eyes and her boundless passion.

More to himself than to her, Lucio swore, “I’m going to give him the whole world, E.”

Errol’s smile was radiant, and Lucio knelt before her in the grass, pressing his ear to her belly and placing his golden hand over her gloved one. “You hear me in there, little prince?” He smiled when she lifted her free hand to stroke through his hair. “You’re the next count of Vesuvia. You’re going to rule over this entire city.” When the baby kicked, his smile grew, his hand gently squeezing Errol’s. “You’re going to be great.”


	37. Chapter 37

"Can you feel that?" 

The touch was feather-light, Lucio's golden claws brushing over the bare skin of Errol's back, and she shivered. Her voices was soft when she asked, "What're you doing?"

"Touching you." He sat beside her on the bed, legs crossed, back hunched, moonlight streaming through him. "Or trying to."

Errol's brows drew together, pillowing her head on her crossed arms and meeting his eyes over her shoulder. "I'm trying to sleep." Though she sounded tired, she didn't sound especially bothered.

When he moved to straddle her hips, hovering over her on his hands and knees, Errol shivered, but didn't move to shove him away. He barely weighed anything, more of a cool pressure than a real encumbrance. She was more curious than annoyed.

Softly, Lucio asked, "You don't remember me, do you, firebug?"

 _Firebug._ It was familiar. Meeting Lucio's glowing eyes with her own, Errol asked, "Did I know you?" She could already feel the headache coming on, but being this close to Lucio felt strangely right. She needed to know what he knew. "When I was alive?"

"You more than _knew me_." Lucio lowered himself to his elbows, nuzzling at the back of her neck. "Does that bring up any old memories?" He brushed his cool lips over her skin, and she shivered hard. "Stir up any sparks, firebug?"

"I don't know." Being so close to him felt so, so familiar. Squirming beneath him, she breathed, "Try it again."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm super nervous about posting this, but it can't hurt, right? Here's to my first fic for The Arcana! ☆ It'll gradually include many ships and ratings and such
> 
> Feel free to make requests, too, though I mainly write for Julian, Asra and my own fan apprentice 
> 
> As always, I must mention that I go by [PlaguedCount](http://plaguedcount.tumblr.com/) over on Tumblr, and I'm totally open to taking questions and comments there! :) Hit me up!


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